


Leave Me Whole

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, possessive!Louis, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’d think you’d never done this b’fore, wouldn’t think you’re so easy for me, Haz.”</p>
<p>Harry’s panting, but he fights the words out- “Exactly why I wan’it,” he explains, tries to turn his head so Louis can see his smile, his squeezed-shut eyes, “Know how good it is.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for slight D/s and possession kink. Pre-iTunes Festival fix-it fic. (Let’s be real, it’s more drabbly porn. Yay porn!) Title from [x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwTnXr3iQbU).

Harry thinks he might get a friction burn on his cheek from the way it’s rubbing against the blanket, but that’s the least of his worries with his arse up in the air and Louis behind him.

Louis’ breathing harshly against the side of Harry’s neck, spread over his back and straining to reach, to be able to press his lips to Harry’s jaw, to the tender skin beneath his ear. “Yeah?” he asks, voice tight, and squeezes Harry’s side with sticky fingers.

“Uh huh,” Harry whines, stretches his neck to give Louis more room, a bigger surface to reach with his clumsy lips- he’s thrusting too hard to be precise, but Harry will do everything he can to enable him.

Groaning, Louis holds himself up, hands at Harry’s hips, pulling him back onto his cock, staring down the line of his back. It’s not even their favorite position, but god, Harry looks good like this, shoulderblades standing out, spine arching desperately like his bones are trying to break through his skin from the energy thrumming under the surface. Louis digs his fingernails into the soft, pale skin over Harry’s hipbones, bruising, and bites his lip, pushes Harry down and pulls all the way out.

“Fuck,” Harry croaks, pushes his arse back, desperate, shamelessly easy for Louis. He knows exactly why Louis chose to do this now, too, the suddenness of it, the brief and quick moment he spared to slick Harry open a little before pounding into him, because it’s not the first time he’s done it. They’re both aware of how Harry will sit down more carefully tomorrow, perhaps not jump around as much onstage, and maybe Nick will notice- of course he will, always watching Harry with this infuriating curiosity that makes Louis want to punch the bastard because he’s too nice and Harry likes him too much- but that’s mere digression, really, because Harry will feel this tomorrow and know it was Louis who did it.

“Fuckin’ stranglin’ my dick,” Louis mutters, hand wrapped tight at the base of his cock, holding Harry still with one hand now, thumbing at his side and pushing him down when he wiggles too much. “You’d think you’d never done this b’fore, wouldn’t think you’re _so_ easy for me, Haz.”

Harry’s panting, but he fights the words out- “Exactly why I wan’it,” he explains, tries to turn his head so Louis can see his smile, his squeezed-shut eyes, “Know how good it is.”

Louis face goes soft, and he can’t help leaning forward, pressing a peck of a kiss to Harry’s spine, right between his shoulderblades, and then another on his cheek. “ _You’re_ so good,” he says, quiet, still breathing heavy, and he has to exhale, shaky, run his mouth down Harry’s body from his shoulder almost to his hip as he leans back up. “You want it?”

Nodding against the pillow, Harry tries to push back against Louis again, is met with bruising resistance from Louis’ hand at his hip. “Please,” he says, rasping and low.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, “Like that, Haz. Don’t move, okay?” He pets at Harry’s hip before removing his fingers slowly, moving his hand to palm at Harry’s arse, hold him open- “stay-” and he moves forward on his knees, pressing just the head of his cock to Harry.

Harry struggles to keep his hips still, but he obeys- he wants so badly for Louis to fill him up again, to nudge deep in and graze his prostate every few thrusts, and he knows the way to get it is to follow every one of Louis’ orders.

Louis presses his face to Harry’s shoulder as he pushes in, teasing little jerks of his hips until he’s flush, hips to Harry’s arse, and he can feel Harry’s heartbeat through his ribs like it’s his own. “Were gonna make me come too soon,” he murmurs, scrapes his teeth over the blade of Harry’s shoulder. “Still might, Haz, fuck.”

“Oh,” Harry says, arches his back a little. It’s a while before he can really get words out- Louis is fucking him slower, now, tight little thrusts that barely drag his dick out of Harry before he’s pressing back in again. “Pity,” Harry finally manages in between a breathy moan and a low grunt when Louis snaps his hips forward and it knocks Harry a good half inch forward, knees faltering.

Louis whines and pulls Harry closer to him, hands at his hips and thighs, holding him steady, keeping him upright. “Stay, love,” he rasps, and- it’s a practiced motion from other times, when Harry rides him, to grab his hips and just tug until he’s bouncing back onto his dick at every thrust. 

Harry knows better than to try and touch himself without asking Louis first, but he’s wary of asking- Louis doesn’t seem to be in much of a generous mood, so much as he’s commanding and possessive, and while that’s more than enough to bring Harry off, his cock is pressed to his stomach, rock stiff to the point where it almost hurts, leaking. “Lou, c’n-” he tries, but Louis just tightens his hands, hard enough that Harry wonders if he could get down to his bones just like that.

It’s too much later- or, not, really, but in the sense that time has slowed down till it’s syrup and sped up till it’s pure adrenalin; like playing a show, but all Harry’s skin on his- when Louis remembers to respond, and he’s had to slow himself again, is grinding his hips to Harry’s in figure eights now, heated and maddening. “What?”

“Lou,” Harry whines, presses his forehead to the mattress under him and breathes hard. “I need- can I touch?” He almost wants to take it back as soon as it leaves his lips- Louis is in control, after all, and asking for more feels like he’s challenging that authority.

Louis huffs, goes still, trying to steady his breathing, running a palm over Harry’s back, the arch of it, the way he’s gone damp with sweat. “My prick not enough for you?”

For a moment Harry fears Louis will actually try to hurt him, now- or even worse, pull out. “So good, you’re. Yeah, no, I’m.” Harry stutters, clenches his eyes shut and keeps his hips still. “Fuck.”

“I-” Louis swallows, and the roughness of Harry’s voice stuns him, catches him off-guard like a slap to the face, and he shudders. He’s sure Harry can _feel_ the painful twitch of his cock, and the game’s up, that easy, because Louis’ good at playing in control, but _fuck,_ the things Harry does to him. 

Harry swallows, lifts his head and shoulders a little, still holding himself up on his forearms but not exactly pressed to the mattress, now. “Fuck me, Lou,” he says, as quiet acceptance. “Wanna feel you.” The _tomorrow_ is implicit, the _so everyone who knows us well enough will surely be able to tell._

Louis screws his eyes shut tight, suddenly burning, and presses in impossibly closer, knees knocking Harry’s, bending them both uncomfortably to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Okay, Haz,” he whispers, and moves- plastered along Harry’s back, fucking him quick but staying in deep, wrapping an arm under Harry and splaying a hand over his chest, soaking up his warmth. “So good for me,” he breathes, and it’s harder, this way, not as much leverage, but he can’t pull away. Instead, he slides the hand at Harry’s chest down to his stomach, uses it and the hand still at his hip to tip his ass up, presses his own hips _up_ and in and watches Harry’s face for the reaction.

It takes a conscious effort for Harry not to crumble again- the angle is perfect, makes a surge of electric heat shoot through him and gather at his lower belly, heavy. He moans, long and dragging through Louis’ relentless thrusts until it fades into little grunts every time Louis snaps his hips in. It’s then- and it’s happened before, but he only ever thinks of it as a possibility in these moments- that he thinks he might be able to come untouched, after all. Besides, it’d please Louis, and that’s a top priority.

Louis can tell from Harry’s tensing, squirming, that it’s good, and he loves this, knowing that he’s got it right, even if it takes the extra burn in his arms from holding Harry’s body up, balancing himself. “Can you?” he murmurs, voice cracking, and repeating himself, a little louder, “Can you come like this, love? I’ll touch you if you need. If you want.”

Harry takes it as a challenge, then, shakes his head against the bed. “No, no,” he mutters, grinds his arse back, hoping desperately to make this happen. “Close, just- there, _fuck,_ ” he whines, meets Louis’ thrust into just the right spot. 

Louis’ arms are shaking, thighs trembling with the same fine desperation, just about to unhinge, but _Harry first_ is- it’s the way Louis likes to do things, and besides, he deserves it tonight. “So good for me,” he hums, trying to keep his voice steady, pressing a sloppy kiss down the shell of Harry’s ear. “You’re so, so good, Haz, look at you, trying to come on my cock, you can do it, just think, you know I can’t last when you go all tight- gonna come too, all up inside your pretty arse, god, c’mon, love.”

Listening to Louis talk seems to do it for Harry. Before he knows it, his thighs are shaking and the heat in his belly overflows, makes his abs tighten and forces a moan that sounds a lot like Louis’ name out of his throat. He stripes halfway up his flushed torso, even gets Louis’ hand and drips onto the bed.

_“Yes,”_ Louis hisses, teeth clicking painfully befores he gets his lower lip between them, bites down hard- Harry is a mess of heat and pressure and blinding prettiness beneath him, and he’s coming before Harry’s done, filling him up as he spills over their sheets. 

Harry collapses, finally- he’s been holding himself up for all too long and his arms hurt, a slow burn across his forearms and up his biceps. He doesn’t have a mind to avoid the come on the sheets or even pull off of Louis’ dick, ends up a sweaty, dirty heap, curled up on the bed with his arse cradled on Louis’ lap. His hair’s matted, tangled where it rubbed against the sheets with Louis’ thrusts, and Harry feels full and spent and happily claimed as Louis’.

Overheated and wrung-out, Louis is still careful when he cradles Harry’s hips in both hands, gently holds him still as he backs away on his knees, pulling out with a wince. He pushes Harry over onto his side, manhandling him out of the wet spot to the other side of the bed with nudges and hands at his waist and elbows, not a bit roughly, and collapses into the space beside him. Kissing his forehead tiredly, he licks his bruised lips, spreads a hand into the damp stickiness on Harry’s lower stomach. 

Eyes droopy, Harry uses his last bit of energy to scoot closer to Louis, nuzzling up against his chest. His voice is always at its lowest when he wakes up in the morning or after sex, and tonight certainly isn’t an exception. “You’re my favorite, Lou,” he says, his _I love you_ of choice most recently. It’s a thing, particularly when they can’t say the exact words around just anyone.

“That’s it,” Louis directs, as Harry edges in close, and they shift arms and legs to fit together. He smiles a bit, at Harry’s words, then, and leans down to kiss the tip of his nose. “And you’re mine, Curly.”

Harry nods, a mellow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m yours, Lou.”

“Mine,” Louis agrees, and pets at Harry’s tummy, fond. “Sleep now, yeah? We’re good.” 

They are.


End file.
